


Frustrated and Bored

by Filthy_Ghoul (Literate_Ghoul)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1409002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literate_Ghoul/pseuds/Filthy_Ghoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sherlock discovers John watching gay porn he realizes he has no more reasons to hold back on his pent up frustrating and needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frustrated and Bored

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've actually written on my own and not for a roleplaying post in quite a long time so please be gentle with me. I hope you enjoy reading it.  
> Inspired by a dream I had the night before (seriously need to stop browsing tumblr before bed)

"John."

"Not now Sherlock."

"But I'm bored," Sherlock slunk up behind his flatmate from his prone position on the couch. He'd been moping for most of the day and was feeling childishly neglected that John had ignored him the entire time. As he approached Sherlock did not fail to notice the way John scrambled to change the webpage he had been browsing, it was a frantic and clumsy attack on the mouse and his favourites bar that left the super sleuth suspicious. He roser and eyebrow curiously, "what are you doing?" Nosey and invasive as ever Sherlock could not stand the idea of not knowing something about John. More then that, he wanted to know what had kept John's attention. He could not imagine what might be more interesting then himself and why John had felt the need to hide it. Surely by now John would know all to well that Sherlock would find his dirty little secrets out eventually.

"N-nothing. Actually my blog. Yes. That," John gestured to the computer screen. Indeed it was the blog, but John had no open post began. Sherlock knew John had not been on the blog a moment before that. His military friend was easy enough to catch in a lie, even for people who were not so smart as himself or so proficient at the art of deduction. "Anyway you're always bored. You even had a case today and you're still bored. Does nothing make you happy anymore?" John made an attempt to change the subject as he recovered his wits and composure. He absently clicked at nothing on the page to make it seem like he was doing something important.

"It was easy," Sherlock sighed with a non-committal shrug. It was a half truth but John had no reason to doubt Sherlock or begin to attempt to unravel his queer friends moods. In truth Sherlock had been moping due to his own personal turmoil which had nothing to do with boredom. It was rare for Sherlock to be in a bad mood for any other reason and he was undecided upon how he felt about his current state of mind. It had become a frustratingly increasing occurrence for Sherlock to find himself utterly distracted by John and his attraction to John. He was human; much to his chagrin, and had felt affectionate and lusty feelings before but nothing compared to those he held for John. He had long ago acknowledged his jealousy of any other companions John adopted and dealt with it accordingly by childishly finding ways to tag along and ruin the moment but he had not seen this jealousy and overwhelming affection for what it had truly become. Sherlock was beginning to realize he could not deny his internal needs much longer as it was manifesting within his heart and stomach as a physical pain and need. It disturbed Sherlock to his very core that he was not the master of his own mind and had startled him profoundly when he realized how wrapped about Johns finger he was. It seemed the opposite to most observers since John seemed to abide his every whim but it was not so. Human error was the term Sherlock and Mycroft had so disdainfully used for affection and love and it had never been much of a problem for either of them. Sherlock had liked it that way. He never wanted to admit it anyone  _especially_ not Mycroft. Just thinking about his need to keep John was frustrating, made doubly so but his companions constant attempts to find love elsewhere. He placed his hands on John's shoulders while he leered suspiciously at the computer screen and pressed himself up against the back of John's chair in attempt to smother himself to his sense. It had the very opposite effect, making him realize just how close to John he was instead. "I know you're not working on your blog. It's obvious you're not since you've already wrote about the case and you never write about anything else," Sherlock cleared his throat when his voice came out thinner then he expected. 

"It doesn't matter anyway. It wasn't important," John crossed his legs like a lady discreetly under the desk. Sherlock could feel how tense John was and absently he began to massage at the shoulders he was already holding. He was very mindful and careful of the thick knotting of scar tissue he knew resided on John's left shoulder.

"What are you doing?" John said with agitation and swatted at the well intended hands which had only made him more tense. Sherlock saw an opportunity and lunged forward over Johns' shoulders and hit the backspace key. The web browser responded immediately by returning to the previous page John had been on. "Sherlock, no!" John had grabbed for Sherlock's wrists but had been much to slow to stop him. Several seconds of silence fell over the two men as they both stared at the computer screen in a frozen still life of their brief scuffle. Sherlock was leaned over John on his toes with one hand on his shoulder and the other hovering over the keyboard. John was leaning forward because of the weight of the other man against him and both his hands clutched Sherlock by the wrist of his outstretched arm.

Sherlock slowly rose his eyebrows at the website which displayed before them. "Ouch," he twisted at John's white knuckled grip but John was so mortified that he did not let go. "John, you're hurting me." The laptop displayed a pornographic website of homosexual nature with animated advertisements. The page that John had visited last was a video of two men being together. It had no fetish of any sort of what Sherlock could tell based on the title. Sherlock had always teased that John watched porn but he could barely believe the audacity of doing it while in the same room, then again he always knew John loved danger. Several moments passed of John opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish as he sought desperately for an excuse. "I. I don't know how that got there," the excuse was weaker then american tea. He finally let go of Sherlocks wrist and closed the website tab. The desktop picture of his laptop was an image on the local news website of Sherlock and John together after having solved a case. Sherlock had stood up straight and was rubbing at the red finger marks on his wrist absently.

"John I -"

"Don't! Just don't!" 

"But I-"

"Sherlock I swear to God I said don't!" Mrs. Hudson would have heard that from downstairs John yelled so loudly. Sherlock would not have been surprised if half the black had heard it. John had gotten angry with him many times before but he had never been quite so loud and assertive as he was now. His lips tightened together in frustrated and silent obedience of his companions loud demands. "Sorry. Sorry Sherlock. Just don't." John had spun on his chair to face Sherlock by this point.

  Sherlock was not quite sure what he was not supposed to do. Talk he supposed, but a part of him knew this was his moment. He knew if he let John get away with this he would not likely get another chance such as this one and he sorely needed the chance.  _'Do,'_ a little voice whispered in Sherlocks' ear. Sherlock took advantage of the wheeled chair and seized John by the shirt and pulled him across the floor the short few inches forward he needed. Sherlock leaned forward in the same motion and their lips met half way with a desperate and clumsy kiss. Sherlock was quite certain that he had lost his mind. John made a strange, strangled noise of surprise but did not make any effort to push Sherlock away. John responded to the attention and their embrace only broke because Sherlock was getting light headed from his need to breath. Sherlock panted, his face flush as his blue-green eyes stared into John Watson's blue eyes for what felt like forever. Sherlock felt he might die from not knowing, for he had no idea what might happen next. His stomach was doing anxious flips when John broke the silence with a chuckle. Much to Sherlock's perplexity the chuckle escalated into a full belly laugh and he frowned in confusion as his companion. Laughter had not quite been his ideal reaction. "But, but, you said! You said you weren't!" John protested between his chuckles as he shook his head. It took Sherlock a moment to recall what exactly John was referring too.

"No I didn't. I said I was married to my work. I'm not against having an affair..." Sherlock said. He was still confused why John was laughing. "That's hardly a good point to make regardless since you always so  **loudly**  protested the possibility of us being a couple. I always - "

"Oh shut up, Sherlock," John said as he leaned forward for another kiss. He misjudged the distance to Sherlock though and crashed into him rather gracelessly instead. They both toppled to the ground with a thud that may as well have been as loud as an atomic bomb so late at night. Sherlock had no time to react and found himself on his back with John atop him. One hand was pinned over Sherlocks head at the wrist and John's hand and the other was clutching John's shirt which he had grabbed reactively when they had fallen.  Sherlock chuckled at the reverse of roles.

  "Are you boys okay? I keep hearing shouting and banging," Mrs. Hudsons tired voice came from the door way and her form was silhouette in the white painted glass of their entryway.  John choked in embarrassment as he was like to do.

 "Fine Mrs. Hudson. Sorry we woke you. John fell out of his computer chair," he yelled to her. Then quietly he said to John, "and on to me."

  "Shut up Sherlock!" John hissed and he had to bury his face into Sherlocks shoulder to stifle his laughter.

 "Alright... Well as long as you're okay..." Mrs. Hudson said with a frown of suspicion on her tone of voice. Both the men lay quietly and stared at the silhouette until it went away. They listened hard for the sound of Mrs. Hudson's retreating footsteps and the sound of her door closing as she entered her own private apartment in the building. 

  "Sherlock are you su -"

  "Shut up John," and he leaned forward to catch Johns lips in his own. The moment had almost been lost by Mrs. Hudsons' interruption but Sherlocks heart was pounding and he refused to let it go so easily. John felt like he might shy away but Sherlock's one free hand snaked around his shoulder to rest at the back of John's neck, pressing just enough to keep him from escaping so easily. Despite himself John kissed back and Sherlock felt him relax.

  With John recaptured he retrieved his hand off the back of his neck and slid it beneath his shirt, exploring John in ways he had not expected he ever would. Although not evident by appearances Sherlock could feel the hardness of John's muscles beneath. Sherlock shifted subtly, spreading his legs so John could shift between them comfortably and he moaned softly at the feeling of friction as John shifted atop him. "I have no idea what I'm doing," John panted between kisses.

 "Me neither," Sherlock muttered breathlessly. Another half truth. He did not know what he was doing because he had never done it but he had been daydreaming about what he wanted to do for long enough that he knew exactly what he would do.  Sherlock twisted his body and pushed at John so the both rolled on the floor until he was on his knees over John whom was now laying with his back on the floor. Sherlock leaned forward and kissed John's lips again, tasting his tongue before his jaw and then neck. He moved down John's body this way until his lips dragged along the pant line there.  Sherlock fumbled with John's belt and trousers and pants and he shook from nervous anticipation. He freed John from the confines of constricting pants and John's cock sprung up to attention like the soldier it belonged to.

  "Sherlock I don't think I'm rea---Oh God, yes I am." John moaned as Sherlocks warm, wet mouth closed around him. Sherlock choked as John reflexively thrust deeper into his throat and grabbed John's hips so they could find a rhythm together. John's fingers threaded needily into Sherlocks messy curls and he clutched them desperately trying to keep himself together as Sherlocks tongue swirled curiously around his cock. Sherlock moaned at the pleasant noises which he was massaging out of John with his mouth and his own need grew and became uncomftorable. "S-stop. I'm --" John gasped, and he would have been quickly finished by Sherlock's sucking but Sherlock finally relented. He was gasping for breath and light headed and his cheeks were flushed. Sherlock sat up and leaned back on his knees as he recovered his breath and began to undo his classy but horribly restrictive dress trousers to free himself. Sherlock sighed in relief. "The chair," John commanded and pointed. 

  "What?" Sherlock asked breathlessly.

  "The chair. Get up," John rose from the ground and ungracefully kicked off his trousers and pants which had been clinging to his ankle up until that point. He pulled Sherlock to his feet and helped him out of his own cloths as he steered Sherlock to the chair. When they arrived at their destination John pushed Sherlock unceremoniously face first into the back rest and Sherlock grunted as he was man handled into a vulnerable position with John behind him. Sherlocks long fingers clutched the back of the couch and his breath hitched in anticipation as he felt John press hard against his anus. John wrapped his one arm around Sherlock for leverage and pushed slowly and carefully. Sherlock hissed and grit his teeth at the initial pain of penetration but it was only a mild discomfort afterwards and nothing when measured against the heartfelt moan of pleasure which John emitted as he slid inside. With this accomplished John reached with his hand until he found Sherlock's aroused cock and began to stroke while simultaneously thrusting slowly and steadily.

  "Oh God," Sherlock moaned and his mind was blur of pleasure at the sensations coming from each place. His entire body tensed as it was stimulated and he could do nothing but focus on not ejaculating to quickly. He wanted the moment to last but his inexperience was showing and he knew he would not. Just the sound of John's pleasure was enough to bring him near bursting and pressed his face into the fabric of the couch, biting his own hand to try and stay in control of himself but he could barely remember to breath between the waves of pleasure which assaulted his mind and body. He felt a building up and knew he was peaking. "John. John I can't," but the warning was to late and Sherlock ended his sentence by crying out in the pleasure of his climate, he made an awful mess of John's chair.  It seemed John had been blinded by his own pleasure for Sherlock felt John's cock throb inside him. John was much more discreet. Sherlock cried out again as John's final, rough thrusts massaged his prostate pleasurable and had him seeing stars and thinking nonsense. 

  Sherlocks entire body shook violently from the exhaustion their passion had tolled on his body and they both sunk to the ground in exhaustion together. Sherlock leaned against the chair, mindful of his own mess with John slouched against him. They were both slick with sweat and Sherlocks curls were heavy and clung tightly to his forehead and bugged his eyes as they recovered in a moment of silence. John had his head rested on the curve of Sherlocks slouching back as he recovered and he chuckled softly, "bet you woke Mrs. Hudson again after all that yelling you did." 

  Sherlock laughed, "bet she knows you didn't fall off your computer chair too."

  "Suppose people will be  _really_ talking now," John sounded like he was quite sure how he felt about their new arrangement or the possibility of it being a publicly known fact. 

  Sherlock shrugged, "let them. It won't be any different then before."

  "Are you kidding me, Sherlock? Of course it will be - God you made a mess of my chair." 

  "No it won't be. People talk like they always do. And I've needed? Wanted?" Sherlock waved his hand at his inability to find the right word. "Anyway it was inevitable." John shifted with discomfort. He had never been good at these moments of admittance and in truth Sherlock was not so great with them either. Sherlock changed the subject knowingly, "I need a shower." He flipped the cushion of John's chair and patted the clean side now that the mess was hidden. "There. Good as new."

   "You can't just -- uhg. You know what's ridiculous though?" Sherlock looked at John questioningly over his shoulder. "I'm not even gay!" John exclaimed.

  "I beg to differ," said Sherlock with a chuckle as he peeled himself away from John and stood. His whole body felt weak and yet satisfied and calm. What an efficient way to be rid of boredom that did not include the awful after effects of the drugs he had taken in the passed. Although Sherlock knew he could suffer withdrawal from John it was not nearly the same. Sherlock stretched and then headed towards the bathroom for the shower he had said he would take. John scoffed at the chair one last time before following his companion towards the lavatory. After the suddenness of their sexual encounter it seemed like it should have been odd or uncomfortable between them but it was not. It felt like it should feel and for the time being Sherlock Holmes was not bored. For the first time since he could recall the world seemed a good place to be


End file.
